


Caged Bird

by iselsis



Series: Whump"tober" 20"20" [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Auction, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Drugged Heat, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Tim Drake, Pack Building, Slavery, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2020, caged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iselsis/pseuds/iselsis
Summary: Omega Tim Drake is the prize jewel at the auction and Bruce will bedamnedif he lets anyone hurt that boy.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whump"tober" 20"20" [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950982
Comments: 175
Kudos: 559
Collections: Gen Batfam ABO





	Caged Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have basically one type of fic I like to write? Yes. Am I bad with schedules? Yes. Will I write Coat and Cowl chapter three soon? _Yes_. These whumptober one shots keep getting so much longer than I intend. I guess I just like hurting Timmy.  
> Tim is about nine or ten here, and doesn't know that Bruce Wayne is Batman yet because the Maronis got him before he saw Robin doing a quadruple somersault.  
> Let me know what you think!

There were voices, rising in a blur of overlapping chatter and inebriated laughter from the guests just yards away. The scents of gourmet foods drifting through the velvet curtain covering the bars of his cage made his mouth water, but the musky scents of dozens of alphas and the more mellow scents of the smaller attendance of betas made his empty stomach churn even harder. 

They could smell him too. They were meant to – just before the auction had started, Salvatore Maroni had had Tim forced down and injected with a drug that sent him into an early and intense heat. It had only been a couple of hours, but the full rush of heat was going to hit hard and _soon_. Already, the heat was flooding his covered cage with unnaturally strong heat scent and drifting out through the curtain to excite the ruts and checkbooks of the prospective buyers. The cage had been strategically placed in the middle of the stage, though, so no one could pull away the curtain to get an early glimpse without climbing up on the stage. That, at least, was a small mercy.

Tim huddled as far away from the crowd as he could, pressing his back against the gilded brass bars of the cage, and rubbed his hands as fast as he could up and down his sides to try to satisfy the burning need for human touch. His eyes stung viciously with tears no matter how hard he tried to make them stop. It _hurt_ how much he wanted someone to hold him, one of the kind omega prostitutes Salvatore paid to take care of him during his heats while he was in storage, but it wasn’t going to be one of them. Soon, _soon_ , it was going to be an alpha who embraced him in his heat, not in a soft, maternal hold, but in – his stomach lurched - oh god- 

He was going to be sick. He was going to throw up all over himself, and then no one was going to want to buy him, which would be even _worse_.

Tim shuddered, Salvatore’s words ringing in his ears. _If you fuck this up, I will fuck you until you wish you were dead_ _every night_ _for the rest of your miserable life._

Tim had seen what had happened to the kids Salvatore took for punishment – when he’d first arrived, before he’d been singled out for grooming, he and the others he’d been kept with had tried to escape. When they’d been caught, and the ringleader singled out…he’d done it right there in front of them. Made them watch. All the way until he’d snapped her neck.

He could _not_ afford to not be sold.

Tim took a deep breath and tried to force himself to calm down. He’d been selected from the rest of the omegas the Maroni family had acquired because he was pretty and compliant. The Maronis had invested thousands into tests making sure that he was healthy and fertile, and had gone through a lot of effort to preserve his virginity. A few of the guards Maroni had stuck with him had tried to force Tim to his knees, so Maroni had cut theirs off and had their bodies dumped in the harbor. Tim could still remember their terrified screams ringing in his ears and how sickeningly relieved he’d been to hear them.

It was all in preparation for this night, investing for months in building a beautiful, docile virgin baby-maker that any alpha would want to mate.

Everything that he’d been saved from was coming for him with a vengeance. He wasn’t going to be a whore like the other kids, but at least whores got some time off. He was going to – 

Tim buried his face against his knees and bit his lip almost hard enough to make it bleed. He had to stop. Even if he _didn’t_ hurl, the bitter fear and distress in his scent was starting to become noticeable even over the abundance of honey-sweet pheromones pouring off of him. He had to at least pretending to be willing, compliant, for now, or no one would want him.

Being a slave would be better than being a whore, he tried to convince himself. There would only be one alpha – well, hopefully only one. Alphas were usually very possessive, but the one who bought him might like to _share_. There would only be one main alpha, though, and Tim might be able to endear himself to that alpha. As long as he was complacent and obedient, he could try asking for things. Nights off, gentleness, food, maybe even trips outside. If he willingly let his alpha take…pictures, then maybe he could even convince the alpha to let him use the camera during the day. He wouldn’t be able to do any of that as a whore whose client had no real power over him one way or the other.

Tim nibbled on his lip with a little bit less force and forced himself to think of happier times. The circus, before the Graysons had fallen. His camera, before his father had smashed it to punish him. The last time his parents had visited, before he’d presented and they’d sold him to the Maronis to be rid of him.

That really hadn’t helped.

But there always was…

_Nights out in Gotham, the wind blowing in damp from the harbor and the normally bustling sounds of the city muted except for the rush of an occasional car, the hiss of a grappling wire unfurling, and the click of a camera. Batman, Robin, freedom._

Tim breathed in deeply, then sighed in relief and released his lower lip.

He was still scared, but no matter what happened, no matter what anyone did to him, nothing would ever be able to corrupt those memories.

The PA system turned on with a snap and a loud mechanical hum, startling Tim to his feet. He needed to look seductive – how did he do that?! Dammit, he should have asked one of the other omegas how to look _inviting_ instead of _pale and terrified_. 

There were a couple of dull thuds as the microphone was tapped in a test, and a chill, despite the raging heat in his body, ran down Tim’s spine. The fear in his scent was becoming sharper and they were all going to be able to smell it, and then no one would by it, and Salvatore- _Salvatore_ -

 _Robin saving an abandoned kitten from a storm drain_. Tim closed his eyes and focused on what had calmed him before. _Batgirl’s aesthetically flapping red hair in perfect lighting. The _whoosh_ of the Batmobile zooming past._

It helped, just a little, but his heart still pounded so loudly that he barely even heard Salvatore’s first words to the crowd.

“Alphas and betas,” Salvatore Maroni greeted with false enthusiasm. Tim had heard all the griping the alpha had done as the auction had been set up about how much he hated the cash cows of Gotham. “The night isn’t getting any younger, and neither are we!”

Everyone forced awkward laughter at the uninspired attempt at humor, but Tim flinched.

Salvatore’s frown could be heard in his voice, and Tim flinched again. Things never ended well for him when the alpha was pissed. “Well, let’s get started with the auction.”

The next hour passed too fast and agonizingly slow as antiques, cars, and other valuables were sold, but Tim could hear snatches of murmurs and the growing scent of anticipation and carnality as each item sold brought them closer and closer to the final prize of the night. The scents of dread and terror were becoming more and more obvious in his scent, and his body, weak from heat and the few days Salvatore had been withholding heat to make him _pliable_ , ached to stop standing, but Tim wasn’t sure when it was going to be his turn, and he didn’t dare to sit down. He had no clue what was going to happen once that curtain came down, but he was sure it was going to be ugly.

And very soon, he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Salvatore drawled, taking his time to further fan the flames of the crowd’s desire. 

He got what he wanted: Tim could smell the torrid scents of the alphas grow even thicker, reaching him even through his shield of fabric. Out there, it was probably-

The curtain was ripped down, and the full force of the _lust_ in the air hit him like a truck. Tim stumbled back and whimpered, and even the vicious glare Salvatore shot him couldn’t make him unhunch his shoulders and display himself as the glorified sex object he was meant to be as best he could.

Sexy, Tim, _sexy_.

There were _hundreds_ of eyes on him. The stage lights blinded him as he looked toward the back, leaving those farthest away as vague shadows, but he could see the faces of those closest to the stage. 

They looked _hungry._

Tim shuddered and whimpered again.

“If you ruin this, you’ll wish you’d never been born,” Salvatore snapped, covering the head of the microphone with his hand and spearing Tim with furious eyes. 

_Batman, beating up a rapist in an alley._

The memory washed over him like a wave of confidence. Tim looked up and imagined the scene from that rainy fall night a year ago, but with Salvatore Maroni as the alpha bloodied and bruised in under Batman’s fist. He couldn’t help a slight smile at the thought.

Tim lifted his head, straightened his shoulders, and managed to keep from trembling. He still kind of wanted to be sick, but at least with the crowd, he was gambling. He might get a kind alpha. 

_Kind alphas don’t buy kids_ , his brain supplied unhelpfully. Anyone would be better than Salvatore, though.

Maroni’s glare turned into a cruel smile, and he turned back to the crowd. “Shall we start the bidding at forty-thousand?”

There was an _uproar_ from the crowd, a clambering of excited shouts and howls, all raising the price higher and higher. Tim took deep breaths, looking at every face he could see and imagining Batman beating them up. Batman would have saved him if he knew, Tim was sure. The knowledge kept his breathing even and his scent calm until one voice rose above the rest. 

“Show us the merchandise, Maroni!”

The demand was echoed and laughed around the room until the entire crowd seemed to be demanding for Tim to be stripped. 

Tim stumbled back from the bars like he’d been punched, then clenched his eyes and fists. _Batman, Robin, Batgirl_.

He was _already_ wearing almost nothing. There was a long strip of red satin fabric threaded through his legs and then looped through itself, hanging precariously on his hips with the excess fabric falling to his knees in the front and back. His chest, legs, arms, and feet were completely bare and exposed to every ogling eye. 

Tim’s eyes stung with tears and he had to choke back bile. Couldn’t that be enough for them? Couldn’t he just expose himself to the one who bought him? Did it- He’d never see any of them again, but he had to wipe a tear before Maroni could catch it at the prospect of being completely naked in front of so many people. 

Maroni laughed into the microphone, cruel and lusty. _God_ , he was going to make Tim do it. 

“Well, I think that sounds fair. Omega-” Maroni turned to Tim, his eyes gleaming. “Remove your clothes.”

Tim shook his head involuntarily, and the tears spilled over before he could stop them. “P-please, no, please, anything but-”

Salvatore’s smirk dropped off his face into fury, and he snarled to one of his thugs nearby, “Go in there and rip it off him.”

The alpha guard met Tim’s eyes and grinned with anticipation as he pulled a ring of keys from his belt and approached the gilded bars, Salvatore waiting just outside.

There was no salvaging his façade. Tim scrambled back, but his heat made his movements sloppy and he stumbled, crashing _hard_ to the floor of the cage. “Please, please, don’t do this!”

The alpha didn’t stop, but unlocked the door and slowly pulled the it open, drawing out each moment as long as he could. Tim pulled himself up to a sitting position and curled his legs to his chest to try and hamper the alpha, but the cage was small and-

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!” a huge voice boomed over the audience. “BUT DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Salvatore snatched the arm of the alpha guard and stared out into the stunned crowd. Even Tim was shocked. Salvatore had been anticipating sixty thousand dollars for him, had told him so, but _one hundred_ thousand? 

His heart hammered, and he said a desperate prayer to any divine force that might be listening to let him be sold to that alpha. That was a _lot_ of money, and you don’t break your expensive toys.

The crowd slowly parted to let a huge alpha through to the front of the stage. None of them seemed to believe what was happening either. 

The alpha made his way to the front of the stage and met Tim’s eyes with a soft, pained expression. The tears came harder and Tim buried his face in his hands, even as his instincts, now aware of the alpha, _screamed_ for him to crawl into his arms. Even as he fought them, he trembled with desire. Dear _god_ did he want to be _held_. He _needed_ that alpha’s muscular arms to keep him safe, that large body to shield him from predators, those kind eyes to smile down at him, he wanted- Wanted! 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen. That- in the alpha’s eyes, that wasn’t _kindness_. The alpha didn’t want his full body to be displayed; he was jealous and didn’t want the crowd to see any more of his new omega’s body than it had to. Tim was going to be touched all over, but it wasn’t going to be _kind_ or _soft_.

“Mr. Wayne,” Salvatore said, surprise and excitement both evident in his voice. He blinked, then looked up at the crowd. “One hundred thousand! Do I hear one hundred five thousand?”

There was complete silence.

“Going once!”

“Going twice!”

“Sold, to Bruce Wayne,” Salvatore said with a self-satisfied grin, finally pulling the alpha guard completely out of Tim’s cage. “Anyone who has made a purchase may collect their items immediately. For the rest of you, continue to enjoy the night!” Salvatore lowered the microphone as the crowd started to disperse, but Tim could still hear every word. “Mr. Wayne, if you will come with me to discuss the payment, we will transport your omega to a private room for you to… _inspect_ more closely at your leisure.” 

The door to his cage was slammed with such force that it shook the bars. The door was locked again with a sickening and final _thud_.

He’d gotten his wish, at least. He would not be stripped in front of the horde of lusty alphas and betas. 

Mr. Wayne was so big, though. He had to be two or three times the size of Tim. It was going to hurt like hell, even though his artificial heat would numb it a bit.

Several burly alphas approached the cage, and each grabbed two bars and lifted the cage into the air. Their mix-matched gaits and heights of the alphas made the ride jarring as they carried the cage off the stage and into one of the gallery of side rooms. Tim chose to focus on that instead of – anything else.

They finally dropped the cage from high enough that Tim _bounced_. He was surprised the marble tiles hadn’t cracked, but he was _sure_ that he was going to have bruises. 

He was going to have bruises anyway, by the time the night was over. 

Tim curled into a ball and shuddered. The new room was so much colder than the last, and he was hardly wearing anything, and soon he wouldn’t be wearing anything _at all_ and his new alpha would…

One of the alphas came near to him, and Tim scrambled as quickly as he could to the middle of the cage, but the alpha’s calloused hand snatched his ankle before he could pull it away. 

“Aren’t you going to have _fun_?” the alpha drawled, giving Tim’s leg a harsh tug. “Want me to give you some tips first?”

Tim jerked his leg back, but the quick motion loosened his cloth, which all the alphas noticed with carousing laughter. Tim fought tears and quickly tightened it as best he could. 

“Mr. Maroni will be mad at you if Mr. Wayne is mad!” Tim snapped with as much force as he could muster. It sounded like a plea even to his own ears.

“But won’t _Mr. Wayne_ ,” another alpha jeered, imitating Tim’s voice in a mocking high pitch, “be _mad_ if you’re too _tight_ for him?”

The alpha lunged for the door of the cage, and Tim lurched back with a yelp and a cry, only for the alpha to slam the bars and laugh. The other alphas joined in, kicking or hitting the bars. 

Tim whimpered and put his hands over his ears. “Please, stop!”

“Come on, boys,” the second alpha cackled at last. “Let’s see if we can score some of that rich-ass alcohol.”

The alphas groaned at their apparent leader, their scents still running high with aggression and lust, but when he started to saunter out, the filed after him with grumbles of annoyance. 

All the strength left Tim’s body with them.

The door closed with a resounding thud, and Tim breathed out a shuddering sigh that became a sob, then another, then another, until his whole frame was shaking with helpless sobs against the bitingly chill floor of his cage.

Any moment, Mr. Wayne was going to come through those doors, and he was going to claim Tim and make him bond with him, there was nothing Tim could do. He tried to imagine Batman saving him, but he couldn’t muster the hope anymore. He was screwed, and in a few minutes, he was going to be _fucked_ as well. 

His stomach flopped for the final time and he found himself choking up bile onto the floor, filling the whole room with the sickly scent almost as strong as the scent of his heat and terror.

The door opened slowly, and Tim groaned and curled in on himself with a helpless whine.

Footsteps hurried to the cage, and Tim could hear the rattling of keys before he reluctantly turned his face to be able to see Mr. Wayne. He knew that he was supposed to do something, be seductive or pretty like a good little bitch, but all he could do was lie there, whimpering and crying next to a puddle of his own vomit. 

“Everything’s okay now, pup,” Mr. Wayne said as he jiggled the key in the lock until it sprang. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 _Pup_. The word, coming from the lips of his new mate, made Tim want to be sick again, but there was absolutely nothing left in his body and he had no strength to do anything more than flinch. 

Mr. Wayne pulled the door open and held it there. His scent was rolling off him in waves of _calm-kind-safe_ that soothed Tim’s instincts and poured fuel on their fire at the same time. Tim wanted to look away, but he couldn’t break his gaze from Mr. Wayne’s soft blue eyes.

After another long moment of staring at each other, Mr. Wayne extended his hand.

“You’re safe,” Mr. Wayne said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you. Will you come here?”

Tim flinched again, and finally managed to move his head, turning his face until his nose touched the floor. He couldn’t- He- 

He couldn’t do it. No matter how much Tim’s instincts wanted to take that hand and be wrapped up in his embrace, _Tim_ didn’t want Mr. Wayne to touch him _at all_. Mr. Wayne was going to be mad at him if he didn’t get out of the cage – if Mr. Wayne had to come in and drag Tim out – though, so he _needed_ to stand up and walk out and be a good omega before Mr. Wayne got tired and gave him back to the Maronis and _Salvatore_ , but he felt so weak and he didn’t want to let Mr. Wayne touch him, but he wanted to be _held_ , and, and, and- he couldn’t breathe-

A huge spot of warmth enveloped his thin shoulder and Tim lurched back so fast he hit his head against the bars. He gasped – both from the pain but the _utter_ relief as the burning in his skin faded for a moment. Tim gave a high pitched needy whine as the burning rushed back, even more painful than before, and sobbed because he just _couldn’t bear it_ anymore. His instincts and hormones were running wild because of the alpha who could help them _right there_ , but then he’d have to-

In a burst of panicked energy, Tim scrambled to the far wall of the cage and pressed himself against the bars before his instincts could get the better of him, his heart pounding and his breathing ragged and fast.

Mr. Wayne was crouched on the floor just beside where Tim had been, holding the hand – the warm, soothing hand - against his chest. His startled expression melted into deep sadness.

“I’m sorry, I won’t touch you again without your permission. Everything’s all right, kiddo,” Mr. Wayne promised, filling his scent with more calming pheromones. “Why did you throw up? Are you sick? Or are you scared?”

“I’m not scared!” Tim snapped, his voice thick and wet with sobs of terror.

Tim gasped and flinched, waiting for a blow to fall. He’d just mouthed off to an alpha – a _huge_ alpha, his _mate_ who could punish him in any way he wanted and who didn’t have to worry about leaving scars like Salvatore always did – while in heat and _starved_.

After what felt like forever, Tim finally looked up. 

Mr. Wayne looked upset, but he didn’t look _mad_ , and somehow that was worse. At least mad meant something to him. He couldn’t understand what was happening with Mr. Wayne’s face or his scent that was still being all nice even though Tim had been a brat and Mr. Wayne should have hit him for it.

“Pup, you’re safe now. I’m not going to hit you,” Mr. Wayne said calmly. “I’m going to get you out of here. Are you sick?”

At the words _going to get you out of here_ , he nearly was. If he had anything in his stomach, he _would have been_. There was no doubt in his voice that he _was_ going to get Tim out of the cage. And of course there wouldn’t be any doubt, because Mr. Wayne was _huge_ and an _adult_ and an _alpha_ , and he could pick Tim up and carry him like a feather pillow.

Tim buried his face behind his hands. “No.”

He could hear the smile in Mr. Wayne’s voice when he spoke. “Good. I’m glad.”

Tim’s eyes welled with tears _again_ , but of course Mr. Wayne was glad. He couldn’t get excited about mating with a pup who was going to throw up all over the bed while Mr. Wayne was trying to force him to bond. He sounded _so relieved_. 

There wasn’t anything Tim could do, though. Even if he were to escape, where would that leave him? On the streets, without anyone to protect him. He’d have to become a whore, or find an alpha who would protect him as long as he let them fuck him, and that was what was going to happen with Mr. Wayne anyway. The Maronis could find him again, too, if he was alone, and he’d be taken to Salvatore. At least Mr. Wayne was rich and could take care of him and their – Tim raised his eyes in horror and stared at the father of his future pups. He was going to have _babies_ with that alpha.

“You’re going to be okay; I’m going to protect you, son. What’s your name?” Mr. Wayne said.

Oh. _Protection_. Tim breathed a small sigh of relief. No babies yet, then. 

Tim took a deep breath before whispering, “Tim.”

Mr. Wayne shuffled a bit closer. “Salvatore said that they hadn’t fed you in a couple days. Are you hungry?”

Was Mr. Wayne going to feed him if he did what he was told? His heart quickened at the prospect. He was _so hungry_ that he couldn’t even feel it anymore, but he was so tired and weak. If Mr. Wayne was going to feed him…he wouldn’t _like it_ , but he’d do what Mr. Wayne wanted. 

“Yes, sir,” he answered, a deep shudder shaking his body.

Mr. Wayne nodded and stood up. Tim thought that he was going to walk out of the cage, but then he started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket.

Terror spiked in Tim’s scent and he jerked back against the bars, but there was no where to go and he didn’t have the strength, and he’d already decided that he just had to take it, but it was about to happen, right there, right then, on the floor of a metal cage in a room that anyone could walk into at any point and see.

Mr. Wayne shrugged off the coat, but instead of ripping off his shirt and tie next, he bent down and held the coat out in front of Tim. Tim just stared at it, not sure what he was meant to do. Even though it was just dangling in front of him, though, Tim could smell the strong alpha musk – and Mr. Wayne’s own personal scent, like pine trees and Gotham – clinging to it. 

“You’re cold,” Mr. Wayne stated, and Tim just kept staring at him, still not understanding. Mr. Wayne gave the coat a slight shake before dropping it over Tim’s body.

Tim gasped. The coat was warm and smelled _strongly_ of Mr. Wayne. His heat-addled mind went a bit fuzzy with that much alpha scent so close to him as his instincts got a little louder. His skin _throbbed_ with the need for the alpha’s touch enough to draw a small whine from him.

“We need to get you home.” Mr. Wayne knelt beside him, still not touching, but close enough that he _could_ if he _wanted_ to. “May I pick you up?”

Tim took a deep breath and pulled the coat up over his head to hide his face. Mr. Wayne might not like tears, not like Salvatore Maroni did, and then he’d be mad that Tim was crying, but that…that was it. If he let Mr. Wayne pick him up, then he was giving up for real. 

But there was nothing else he could do.

Tim nodded miserably, and Mr. Wayne apparently could tell even through the jacket. Or maybe he didn’t, because he wouldn’t really care at all if Tim said no.

Tim had to fight his reflex to flinch and his instinct to curl up into the alpha’s touch as he pulled Tim forward a bit by his arm and settled the huge coat around Tim’s shoulders. Everywhere he touched, it didn’t hurt anymore and the warmth was replaced by fluttery softness.

Tim wanted to _die_.

“Sh, no, don’t cry,” Mr. Wayne soothed as Tim’s chest started to hitch against his best efforts. 

Mr. Wayne put his hands under Tim’s arms and lifted Tim up against his chest and held him there, one arm under his knees and the other on his back. Mr. Wayne’s hold on him was so _warm_ and _soft_ despite how solid his massive chest was.

“I’m not going to hurt you, puppy. You’re safe with me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” Mr. Wayne whispered into Tim’s hair, his breath tickling hot and moist against Tim’s scalp. 

With that, Mr. Wayne started to rub firm circles into Tim’s back, and Tim couldn’t help it. He _melted_ into the hold with a whimper of pleasure and self-condemnation. Every omega bone in his body was soothed by the strength in the arms holding him and by the gentleness with which he touched Tim, but his eyes still streamed with tears.

Mr. Wayne inhaled a deep breath against Tim’s head, then started walking. His gait was long and even, not shaking Tim at all as he walked out of the room and then into the main gala hall. 

The gala was still roaring on, and the scents of all those other alphas hit him like a wave all over again. Tim whimpered and turned his head away from them and buried his nose in the warmth of Mr. Wayne’s neck. Mr. Wayne’s scent was almost overpowering, but there was no lust in it, not yet. Not like all the other alphas, though none seemed to have noticed them yet.

“They can’t hurt you anymore,” Mr. Wayne murmured. “I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.”

 _Safe_ , Tim thought with another bone-deep shudder. He would, at the very least, keep the others from touching Tim, but safe was not the word. 

They crossed the gala hall quickly and without incident. No one approached, and Mr. Wayne didn’t stop for a second. It was only a minute before they were in the muted hush of the foyer. Mr. Wayne stopped to send a text, and then it was only another minute in his arms before Mr. Wayne was carrying him through the open front door and out of the building.

Tim gasped and sat up in Mr. Wayne’s arms when the cool night air hit his face, turning his face to the sky. He couldn’t see the stars, only the red-yellow clouds above the city, but he was…outside. It wasn’t freedom but it was so, so close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Batman swinging down from the rooftops to pull him from Mr. Wayne’s arm and take him away. He didn’t know where Batman would take him – to his cave? His house? Maybe Tim could just camp out in the trunk of the Batmobile and pop out whenever Batman needed someone to wash his cape or polish his batarangs. 

“Has it been a while?” Mr. Wayne asked, smiling sadly at Tim’s excited face.

Tim nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. His excitement waned, though, when the moments passed and Batman didn’t come. Tim sank back against Mr. Wayne’s shoulder, turning his face away from his alpha’s neck.

Mr. Wayne carried Tim down the front stairs to the curb. Tim winced and tightened his grip on the lapels of Mr. Wayne’s coat, drawing it tighter around him for the imaginary protection it brought.

“Master Bruce, what on earth has-” an old man’s voice started.

“Alfred, this is Tim. We’re keeping him,” Mr. Wayne interrupted, walking determinedly right to the edge of the sidewalk. He raised the hand he’d kept on Tim’s back and brushed it against Tim’s cheekbone. “Timmy, pup, will you look you look up for a few seconds?”

Tim didn’t want to, but Mr. Wayne’s thumb kept rubbing his cheek and that probably meant that Tim was supposed to do it anyway or Mr. Wayne wouldn’t leave him alone. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then slowly raised his head.

His eyes met the blue eyes of an old man with gray hair and a startled expression. They stared at each other for a few moments before the old man’s eyebrows came down and his face melted into a warm smile. He raised his hand and set it gently on Tim’s back. Closer, Tim could smell that he was definitely a beta.

“It is very nice to meet you, young Master Tim. I welcome you to our pack,” the old man – Alfred, Mr. Wayne had called him – said kindly.

Except he was welcoming Tim as Mr. Wayne’s new plaything, so maybe that wasn’t so kind. 

Mr. Alfred opened the door of the backseat, and Mr. Wayne knelt down to let Tim inside. Tim scrambled back against the far door and pressed against it.

As soon as Tim had left the alpha’s grip, the burning and need in his skin started to whisper back. Tim clenched his eyes and told it to go away as the bench shifted slightly when Mr. Wayne climbed in after him. 

The burning didn’t go away, though; it just got worse. Tim whimpered and pulled his knees to his chest. There was one way to satisfy the need, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t want it, he didn’t, but he didn’t have any choices anymore.

“Tim? Is something wrong?” Mr. Wayne asked, frowning at the tears streaming down Tim’s face.

“I-” Tim started. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Mr. Wayne frowned, closing the door with a final thud.

They were alone, just the two of them as Mr. Alfred walked around the car. Were they going to do it in there? Get started in the backseat with Mr. Alfred just in front of them? Or were they waiting for a bed?

Mr. Wayne reached for Tim across the seat between them, and Tim yelped and flinched back. Mr. Wayne pulled his hand back, but it was already too late. Tim had been such an idiot! Mr. Wayne was making an _actual_ advance that time, and if Tim didn’t behave, then Mr. Wayne could still take him right back inside. 

“I’m sorry!” Tim whimpered, but forced himself to slide about two inches closer to Mr. Wayne. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! I’ll be good, I promise, please don’t give me back to them!”

Mr. Wayne frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but Tim had seen that expression too many times before. He was mad, he was definitely mad, and Tim needed to prove that he was worth keeping before Mr. Wayne changed his mind. He was scared of Mr. Wayne, but not as scared as he was of Salvatore Maroni. 

Tim was vaguely aware of the driver’s door opening and Mr. Alfred getting inside as Tim shrugged off the coat and threw himself into Mr. Wayne’s lap. There was a pause, then Mr. Wayne’s arms came up around him in a loose hug. 

Tim hooked his fingers under the cloth on his hips. He choked back a sob, then started to tug. The fabric started to loosen and come away.

“Please be gentle,” Tim whispered, glancing up at his mate.

Mr. Wayne’ eyes widened, then turned mad, and his huge hands wrapped around Tim’s thin wrists with an unyielding grip. Tim gasped and tried to pull his hands away, but Mr. Wayne held on tightly and forced Tim’s hands away from the cloth. Oh, Tim had made a huge mistake. He shouldn’t have said that; he shouldn’t have given an opinion yet because it wasn’t his place, and he should have waited for Mr. Wayne, and he was being too forward, and he hadn’t made Mr. Wayne like him yet and-

Tim whimpered and turned his head away, catching the confused frown of Mr. Alfred in the front seat. The man looked angry, about ready to get up and do something. Oh, great, Tim had managed to make Mr. Alfred at him too. They were going to give him back, he knew it, it was too late for him.

“Tim, look at me,” Mr. Wayne growled, alpha command slipping into his tone. 

Tim flinched, but he had to raise his eyes in response to the command.

He was _right_. Mr. Wayne was _furious_. His eyes were blazing, and his fists were clenched at his sides. Tim bared his neck with a submissive keen, but couldn’t break his gaze.

Mr. Wayne winced, then softened. “Tim, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know why they sold you to me?”

Tim sniffled. “Because you gave them money?”

Mr. Wayne’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. He was probably still too mad. 

“Yes, Tim, because I gave them money,” Mr. Wayne agreed. “But do you know what they think I want you for? Did they…did they tell you? Salvatore said that you’re a virgin, but do you know what that means?”

Tim nodded weakly. He didn’t know what Mr. Wayne wanted, but he could answer a question like that. “It means no one else ever mated me, so I’m all for you.”

Mr. Wayne sighed and looked away for a moment before turning back, his eyes much softer than before. “I suppose it was wishful thinking that they’d spared you that knowledge. You’re too young to know about any of that.”

Tim still didn’t understand. Mr. Wayne wasn’t making sense, and he was mad that Tim asked him to be gentle, but then he _was_ gentle and _sad_ because Tim knew what a word meant. He wanted to curl up and hide again, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to yet, and he didn’t want to make Mr. Wayne mad again.

“Tim,” Mr. Wayne said, still in that very soft, very gentle tone. It sounded like his hug felt, and made his stomach tie itself up with _want_. “I’m not going to mate with you.”

Tim’s gaze flicked to Mr. Alfred, whose confused and angry expression had also softened while Tim was looking away. Sure, he was watching them then, but when the beta was _driving_. Still, he guessed that it would probably be embarrassing if the guy _did_ look back while they were…doing stuff. He wouldn’t want to be doing it at all, but especially not with other people looking.

“Not because of him. Tim, I’m not going to have sex with you _ever_.” Mr. Wayne’s hand came up and rested against the side of Tim’s face. Tim leaned into the touch despite the deep confusion and heat making his head spin. “I’m going to take you back to my home – our home – and you’re going to get some food, and then you’re going to go to your own bed _alone_. You’re my son now. Not my mate. I will never touch a child like that; not you or anyone else.”

Tim shuddered and stared at Mr. Wayne. He seemed so honest, but why would he do that? 

“I-I’m not worth it,” Tim protested shakily. 

Mr. Wayne frowned and brushed his bangs away from his face. “What do you mean, you aren’t worth it?”

Tim blinked back tears, because Mr. Wayne seemed so honest, but there was no way he was telling the truth. Tim gasped back a sob.

“You spent so much money,” Tim stammered. “Why-”

Mr. Wayne pulled Tim up against his neck, and Tim breathed in the scent of the alpha. There was _kind-caring-patient-affectionate-protective_ in it, but there was also a scent that Tim had only ever experienced from a distance, watching his friends or the other kids at school with their parents. 

Mr. Wayne smelled like a dad.

Tim started crying _again_ like a _baby_ , and Mr. Wayne made a gentle unhappy noise and squeezed Tim a little tighter.

“No one deserves to be sold as _property_ , especially not for what they wanted, especially not a child. I will never let them hurt you again, puppy. You are _my_ pup now, and nothing will ever change that,” Mr. Wayne promised, and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. For a second, Tim was confused, but then Mr. Wayne’s wrist scent gland came to rest on his shoulder and start massaging in circles, covering Tim’s bare back in a thick scent that would let anyone who got near know that he was protected by a big, strong alpha. 

Tim couldn’t do anything but sob in relief.

Nothing made sense anymore. Not alphas who didn’t want sex, not rich men who bought kids just to adopt them, not hugs that felt so nice and safe, not freedom from the Maronis without having to get on his knees for a big alpha, nothing. 

Tim nuzzled against Mr. Wayne’s collarbone scent gland and breathed in deep, letting the pheromones there assure him that he was safe, even if his mind still couldn’t believe it.

Mr. Wayne held him for a long time before he put him down in the seat next to them and buckled them both. Tim kept his head against Mr. Wayne’s ribcage the entire time, until they were both fastened in and Mr. Wayne draped one of his huge arms around Tim’s shoulders and pulled him close.

Tim pressed himself bodily against Mr. Wayne as Mr. Alfred pulled away from the curb.

Toward home.

Tim smiled against Mr. Wayne’s chest. He had a home.

It wasn’t anything like he’d expected. Batman hadn’t saved him, but that wasn’t the hero’s fault. He couldn’t be everywhere at once. Besides, Batman had nothing on Bruce Wayne.

**Author's Note:**

> And then when Tim's big brother wanted to run to Ethiopia, Tim was there to suggest a background check on his mom first. Finding out about his mom's criminal past and deciding that he didn't want another criminal parent, Jason decided to stay in Gotham and not die.  
> This was going to be up two days ago, but then I decided that I hated how I'd worded everything in the ending. I swear, I rewrote that ending about three or four times.  
> Me writing when tired: "frowning at the tears streaming down Tim's shirt."  
> Me five seconds later: Waaaaaaaait a sec, I'm a smart person.


End file.
